Life is an enigma riddled with symbolism, metaphors, and ironies, and the more we pay attention to the seemingly trivial details, the more we find meaning and significance in even the most mundane circumstances. Many times, inconsequential, daily occurrences can become moments of profound enlightenment. This is what happened to me one evening when I encountered a simple garden frog. The experience highlighted the reason we need to face and defeat the giants in our lives.
During the night, I dashed out the front door, making my final trip to the garbage can. The door slammed behind me. It was dusk, and many of the night crawlers had already occupied their evening posts. I could hear the rustles in the shadows. Within minutes, I disposed of the trash and bolted inside. I was careful not to let any critters in, so I thought. That was, until I noticed a darting object in my periphery. To my dismay, a garden frog had sneaked past me and entered my living room.
In one fail swoop, I reached for the broom, which happened to be nearby, and opened the front door. The frog must have been on to me. As soon as the broom lifted off the ground, it leaped under a nearby closet door and nestled itself into the corner. After a few failed attempts to remove it, I conceded. It was almost bedtime, and frankly, I didn’t have the energy to start chasing after a frog in the middle of the night. Besides, I was convinced that the closed closet would sequester the frog until morning. I wrong.
About 30 minutes had passed, and I had almost forgotten about my uninvited guest. I was making my way to the kitchen when I saw the frog prancing around the living room. Again, I bolted towards the front door and grabbed the broom. The frog evaded me for a second time. This time, it disappeared behind the television stand. I surrendered again. However, I was slightly fearful that the frog would attack me while I slept. Nervous, I jumped into bed and slipped between the covers.
By morning, I had completely forgotten about my precocious new friend—that is, until I found it dead facing the front door. That was when the irony set in.
I imagined how the small frog must have raced frantically in the dark, trying to escape the unfamiliar environment. Perhaps it was a baby. Perhaps it was hungry. By the time morning emerged, fatigue would have probably set in. Although I don’t know what time the frog had expired, I found it ironic that it died in front of the door, the very door that, just hours before, would have been the source of its freedom had it allowed me to guide it out. Ultimately, its fear resulted in death. More specifically, the frog’s fear of the unknown—the thought of being swept away by the “daunting” human—cost the frog its life.
In our lives, there have probably been countless times when we have allowed fear to cause us to forsake the resolution of our problems. During those moments, it is likely that we circumvented victory by failing to confront our giants. In the tale of the frog, I was the giant (an obstacle), but I was also the answer. How many times have our solutions been accompanied by our giants?
The parable of the frog taught me a valuable lesson. The perception of ease can frequently camouflage treachery. At first glance, those presumably seamless paths might seem uncomplicated. However, some are deceptive, as they have buried pitfalls deep within their midst. Unfortunately, many of us do not immediately discover those stumbling blocks until it’s too late. Most often, it’s not until we’ve invested significant time and resources that we discover that the seemingly easy path is not that seamless.
In the tale of the garden frog, the entire room was illuminated when the frog first entered through the front door. However, within a short period of time, the environment turned completely dark and quiet. It must have been terrifying. Everything familiar to the frog was on the other side of the door. Prior to the darkness, the daunting human, the source of fear, was the only thing standing in the way of freedom. The same is true for us. Many times, our answers are on the other side of our fear.
In the Old Testament, King David’s victory, and eventual kingdom, were on the other side of Goliath—a literal giant. It wasn’t until King David conquered his fear (literally) that he was able to walk into his purpose. Could it be that our victories lie on the other side of our fears? The question of the day is: What is on the other side of our giants?
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